


Silence

by EpsilonWrites



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Descriptions of PTSD nightmares, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Holding Hands, Hopeful Ending, I just want them to be happy but goddamn this shit is sad, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reaper76 if you really squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-28 15:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10129031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EpsilonWrites/pseuds/EpsilonWrites
Summary: Sometimes the quietest moments are the most meaningful.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If you like what I write, follow me on Tumblr at https://epsilon-writes.tumblr.com! I take requests :)

              Ana Amari was always a woman of few words. Whatever she said always counted for something. She wasn’t an unfriendly person in the slightest, although her presence could fill a room with a foreboding presence if she so wished. In any case, the volume of the battlefield filled the silence more than any person ever did.

              So, the first time Ana met the boisterous Crusader, she nearly toppled out of her chair with surprise at the way he pervaded the room with both his personality and his words. Hell, even his body. It was almost comical seeing the large man attempt to fit through narrow spaces in an attempt to reach his destination, but the sniper found it endearing, what with the way he took everything in stride.

              “A glorious foe to overcome! Do not worry, my friend. Reinhardt shall rise in victory!”

              Ana didn’t remember a time when Reinhardt had actually been quiet. Or perhaps there were many moments hidden away like prized possessions under the cover of his volume. Whatever the case, part of her was insatiably curious.

              She was given a small amount of insight into the cheerful man on the night that the news of Eichenwalde’s fall reached the ears of their small Strike Team. She turned to the knight as soon as the images of the destruction-ridden castle popped up on their small holo-screen. His large hand was balled into a fist and those icy-blue eyes sparkled with _something_ Ana had never seen before, at least not from someone like him.

              They tried, they all did. Gabriel dropped all sarcastic pretense, rather impressive if she thought about it, and offered Reinhardt all the shore leave he needed. He refused. Of course he did. That loud voice echoed through room, proclaiming his loyalty to their cause, as if they would expect _Reinhardt Wilhelm_ to ever stop. The voice was hollow, and Ana wondered if he noticed himself. Jack sat down on the man’s other side, silently offering his support in his own unique way. Torbjörn even pitched in, declaring that he was off to craft a makeshift memorial for those lost in the battle.

              For the first time in her adult life, Ana said nothing not because there was nothing to say, but because she was lost for words.

              She found him late at night in the small mess area around 3 in the morning when she couldn’t sleep. It was as if the hole in his heart had seeped into her very bones, coaxing her from slumber and gently whispering that she had to do something, to say something. He was sitting at one of the tables with a large mug in his hand, an identical one placed on the opposite side of the table.

              He was speaking, addressing someone Ana couldn’t see. “A well-fought battle, bringing many tales of honor to our name, Sire! How could anyone ever doubt the name of the Crusaders? Our oath is a stalwart one, Balderich!”

              Amari froze in her tracks, realizing who he was really talking to. Perhaps this was his way of paying his own, private respects, perhaps it was a desperate plea to hear someone’s voice other than his own. One voice in particular, one he would never hear again.

              “Fear not, for I, Reinhardt, shall carry the weight of your victory on my shoulders for all eternity! A toast to your glory, you and your comrades, for all time!” He raised his mug, some of the alcohol sloshing over the rim like spilled ichor. If he heard the sound of soft footsteps approaching, he did not react.

              “A toast to the legacy that does not end with this event, Sir Reinhardt,” Ana murmured, “they breathed with you, and their spirits shall fight at your side.”

              A large hand ran itself through greying blonde hair. Eyes that would never be the same again, those scarred blues, regarded her with the same watery sheen as they had earlier. He laughed, more fully, more alive. “Of course, Captain. The legend of a Crusader cannot be so easily taken as long as one of us stands strong!”

              Ana smiled and turned to leave. Before she departed she turned back and said, “you are unstoppable, Reinhardt.” She roamed the halls, silence ringing in her ears with the full knowledge that her words might never be enough.

***

              Fareeha’s childhood couldn’t have been more extraordinary. The little girl was as feisty as they came, constantly running around the Watchpoints begging for war stories and combat strategies, reaching up at Gabriel and Jack for the privilege to ride around on their shoulders, pestering McCree to tell her about the times he rode horses- he always declined, and Ana had the sneaking suspicion that he had never seen one of the majestic animals at all.

              In other words, Amari’s daughter was by no means shy. The running joke was that she had inherited none of Ana’s demure traits, as it seemed that she was always _talking_ about something. Ana would always smile and simply state that “she picked it up from her father.”

              None of them knew the meticulous cultivation the Captain had gone through in her teenage life, carefully crafting the attitude she had sunk into. She wondered if Fareeha would face the same challenge later in her life, if the battlefield would be as cruel to her.

              As a mother, Ana set out to make sure that wouldn’t happen. Fareeha would learn to defend herself, to be as extraordinary a woman as her mother, but the best possible life would be in her future. Not a life of watching people meet their doom, of the anticipation before a war that would keep her from ever coming home.

              And for a while, Amari almost blamed Reinhardt for the effect he had on her daughter.

              Her admiration of the ex-Crusader was almost obsessive, and he seemed to be the only one on their team that she had any reservations with. Ana found it almost adorable the way that she would peacock in front of him, trying to gain his approval. He would egg her on, he was too good-natured to say anything contrary. She lived for the praise, of hearing that she would soon outmatch him and that one day she might be worthy of wearing the armor of a Crusader herself.

              In the moments before the girl would go to sleep, she would talk her mother’s ear off about how impressive Reinhardt was, how she would grow up to be just like him, oblivious of the pain Ana had so carefully hidden from her. And yet, Amari couldn’t bring herself to disagree.

              It wasn’t the sun shining off of the metal armor that was so blinding.

              She never confided her fear to anyone, not even the man himself. She couldn’t. There were too many words, not enough words, no words at all to explain the fact that she was downright terrified that one day Fareeha would be beyond her protection. That one day she would fail as a soldier, and as a mother.

              Eventually, she found that she could only reside in the silence, watching Fareeha and hoping, praying that she would grow out of this. That she would realize the brutality of this life and reject it finally.

              Captain Amari never saw that day.

***

              Losing Amelie was a sharp blow to morale. It was perhaps the most telltale moment for all of Overwatch and Blackwatch alike, a booming statement that they were stretched too thin, that they didn’t have everything under control. Jack and Gabriel barely slept, their respective organizations working day in and day out to track down _exactly where they went wrong_. Sometimes they wouldn’t even speak to one another out of sheer stress.

              Finally, after an agonizing two weeks, Ana was given a small team and sent out in search of their target. She spent the night before their departure fretting over her rifle, over-steeped tea long since cold sitting innocently beside her.

              She recognized the footsteps long before their owner made his way into the space.

              “Ah, Captain! As vigilant as ever, a reminder that we stand protected under your gaze!” He plopped himself down in the seat facing her. The sniper sighed and gently placed the rifle down.

              “How many lives must we take, Reinhardt? When will there be an outcome that does not show me another mountain of corpses?” Why she thought he had the answer, she didn’t know. Perhaps there was no answer.

              The large man sighed. “I do not know. But if there is one thing I am sure of, it is that no German Engineering could ever be as unstoppable as Ana Amari. Remember that.” With that he pressed one large hand tentatively, _gently_ , to the Captain’s face, one thumb tracing over the mark under her left eye. The corners of his mouth quirked into a smile and he rose. “Sleep soon. You must snatch victory from their hands tomorrow, after all.”

              Ana stayed for a few minutes and then walked to her quarters with one hand on her cheek. She tried in vain to banish the thought that he was a fool to put that much faith in her.

              She knew something was wrong when the first agent dropped, and then the next, and then the next. She knew the moment she hesitated that the fight was already won. And as the world faded around her, as images of Fareeha and everyone she had ever loved ran through her mind, she wondered if she had been right. Or, perhaps she had just been a fool all along.

***

              Words came easier now, though it was a strange notion. There was no need to censor herself, no need to tell herself to stop talking and behave as an ‘admirable’ woman would. War did not spawn admirable people, and perhaps it took the loss of her eye to realize that. Still, she was a protector and that was what she resolved to do, no matter what words did or did not come to mind.

              So, when she was roused from restless sleep with the guilt-ridden cries of a man who had lost everything, of quiet mutterings of a dead man’s name, of pleas to someone who would probably respond with a dark laugh and the pull of a trigger, she talked to fill the silence. Stupid things, like the antics of the small children she’d noticed on the street that morning, or someone trying to swindle a woman out of her hard-earned coins.

              And when she bolted upright at the vision of long hair, chilled skin, and an emotionless smirk staring her down, he sat by her side, the silence only broken by the absent-minded tapping of his fingers against the floor. He didn’t know what to say, or maybe he felt that some things should go unsaid.

              So, the silence pervaded and somehow Ana felt crushed by what she had relished in so many years ago.

***

              The Recall introduced an avalanche of noise back into Ana’s life. She had promised Jack that she would arrive shortly after he did, as the suspicion of her sudden appearance would draw unnecessary attention to the identity of Soldier: 76. She could only hope that they wouldn’t kill him on sight.

              The walk into the base was incredibly loud, too many voices, familiar and new, all simultaneously ceasing at once. It was deafening. The eyes focused in on her, some in curiosity and others in absolute shock. She turned and saw the one thing she feared.

              Fareeha’s face was stern, confused, hardened by war, but most of all, she seemed to be on the verge of tears. And Ana Amari had promised long ago that she would never make her daughter cry. Yet another failure of hers, she supposed.

              The younger woman ran, conflicted with her own emotions at seeing the mother she had lost. Ana’s gaze turned to the other person she was terrified of facing. Reinhardt’s face was openly surprised, and he stepped forward. She dimly registered the sounds of others leaving the area, giving the two veterans space.

              “Ana! How can this be? I thought you were dead…” it was the quietest she’d ever heard him speak. But there was a comfort in hearing his voice again. And somehow, it let her know just what to say in return, just what to say when she went after her daughter.

              “I’m sorry, Reinhardt. But after all that happened? I needed time.” He stepped forward and clasped both of her hands in his, his eyes sparkling with awe. In that moment, Ana felt home. She knew that this was where she needed to be. He filled her silence, and she would protect that to her dying day.

              After all, the lion never did stray that far without his falcon’s watchful eye.


End file.
